Sweet Deception
by Fuhrmanizer
Summary: "You're not much of a sweet disposition, are you?" "If this is your way of calling me a cruel, heartless bitch, then thank you." Clove Ashton wants nothing more than for Cato Wolff to fall off the face of the planet. He however, isn't going away any time soon. Modern Day AU
1. Chapter 1

There was a certain way to walk through the streets of Manhattan at night-rather, there was a certain way to walk through any street at night. Don't draw attention to yourself. Keep to yourself, make no eye contact with anyone, and if the streets are packed, walk with your head down. If you don't call attention towards yourself, then there's a stronger chance that no one will notice you.

Clove Ashton had walking through the streets at night down to an art.

Most of her life was routine. If she had a dollar for every time that she had walked down this exact sidewalk, she'd be a billionaire. Not like it mattered though, her father's stupid photography business raked in money like it was leaves on the front lawn of a suburban home in November. And ever since she could remember, she'd had her father's camera lens trained on her. Lately, it was pissing her off.

Christopher Ashton trusted his daughter enough to let her walk from the studio to the coffee shop every night at nine, where Russell, the family's trusted driver would come and pick her up at exactly ten oh-one. He was never a minute off. In that sixty one minutes spent at the coffee shop, Clove would sit at her usual chair and bury her nose in a book. Whether anyone chose to believe it or not, the daughter of one of the most in-demand photographers wasn't a fame hungry airhead. In fact, she was the exact opposite. She craved for normal. Tonight, however, her usually lenient and willing father had told her that Russell would be present at the exact time that she'd arrive at the coffee shop. She was to go home.

As she made her way down the sidewalk, pulling her jacket across her chest tighter, she couldn't help but to fume. Why on tonight of all nights, did her father want her to go directly home? What was different about tonight compared to any other night? Keeping her eyes trained on a building in the distance, she didn't dare to stop walking.

The city never slept.

* * *

It was fucking cold, and even that seemed like an understatement. Standing under an awning of some unknown building, a well-hidden Cato Wolff watched as people passed by him. He liked to lie under the radar these days. Ever since leaving his family in the Hamptons, he'd been spending hour upon hour taking in the city. It was messed up, just as fucked up as he was. And he loved it.

Rummaging in his pocket, his slightly numb fingers pulled out a lone cigarette and a Zippo lighter. Placing the cigarette between his lips, he fumbled with the lighter for a moment as he tried to light the thing. Finally he managed to get the cigarette glowing, and as he closed the lighter's cap and stuffed it back in his pocket, he took in the taste of nicotine. He leant back up against the wall again, drawing in a long breath of the smoke before removing the cigarette from his mouth. Breathing back out, the smoke billowed out in a cloud.

As the smoke floated up into the atmosphere, his eyes focused themselves on someone who, to his surprise, hadn't moved at all like the rest of the Manhattan population. Raven hair in a high ponytail, some sort of jacket wrapped fairly tight around her, legs that looked a hell of a lot like toothpicks and black boots. Typical prissy girl probably, they all looked like that. The sort of girl Cato would take home for a one night stand. Maybe he'd manage to get this one as another notch on his bedpost. "Where you been, princess?"

Clove whipped around, glaring at the half-concealed figure under the awning of the old abandoned theater. Her hand immediately flew to her side, ready to whip out her phone in the case that she was about to be violated. She was taught to never talk to strangers. Never. If this person thought that they were about to get the better of Clove, they were wrong. Clove Ashton didn't take anyone's bullshit, and she wasn't going to go down without a fight. "What's it to you?" she snarled.

Cato took the cigarette out of his mouth again, letting out another puff of smoke. "What, never heard of friendliness?"

"I've heard of it, but that doesn't mean I believe in practicing it."

Warily making her way over to the awning of the theater, she rested up against one of the outer poles. The male who'd addressed her was leaning up against the wall, a smirk painted across his face. She could see the glow of what she believed to be a cigarette, only for that thought to be confirmed thanks to the smoke she was practically choking on. It wasn't rare to be breathing in smoke in Manhattan, but this boy was practically smoking in her face. Cato chuckled, holding the cigarette out to the girl. "Care to loosen your corset then?"

Clove scowled, pushing what seemed to be a rather strong wrist away from her. "I don't smoke," she growled.

Cato raised an eyebrow, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. "Someone's a bit of a good girl, hmm?" he noted casually, leaning back up against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets.

This boy was clearly trying to push her buttons. Everything in her was telling her that she needed to turn away and ignore whoever the hell this was, but she was finding it hard to. No one messed with Clove Ashton. Folding her arms across her chest, she squared her shoulders. "Why should it matter to you?" Clove replied stiffly.

Cato shrugged. "It doesn't." He chuckled a bit, staring at her stern expression towards him. "What, do you not trust me?" he asked, clearly amused with her.

"Should I?"

"No."

"Then no," Clove said.

She didn't really know why she was standing here talking to this complete stranger. Russell was supposed to be at the coffee shop at exactly nine fifteen. The man who always showed up at ten-oh-one on the dot was, for once in his entire life, late. So not only was she pissed at her father for making her go home, not only was she pissed at the coffee shop for being closed when she realized that she had the chance to go inside, she was pissed at Russell for being a no show. And now, to add onto the list, she was pissed at the stranger underneath the old theater awning. "What do you want with me?" she asked.

"What do you think I want with you?"

"We'd be here for awhile if I began to list off all the things that I think you want with me," she said. Cato nodded slowly. Clove held her head a little bit higher, stiffening up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got places to go."

"No you don't," Cato stated simply, reaching out to grab a tiny wrist and pulling her back. Clove glowered at him, yanking her wrist out of his grip as he continued talking. "You were waiting for someone and they never showed up; come on now. No one stands around and does nothing here in Manhattan." This almost knocked the wind out of Clove.

How could he have known this? Maybe he was stalking her. Maybe he was out to kidnap her. The little voice of reason began to pipe up in the back of her head. _Or, he could just know the streets of Manhattan really well. He's not wrong; no one stands around and waits._

Nope. He was out to kidnap her.

Cato held his hands up in innocence as her eyes narrowed at him. "I'm not here to grab your purse though." Clove, however, wasn't buying any of that. A smirk danced upon his face, looking her up and down. "You're not much of a sweet disposition are you?"

"If this is your way of calling me a cruel, heartless bitch, then thank you."

"Who replaced your Lucky Charms marshmallows with nails?"

"Who stuck a tree up your ass?"

"No one, because this is Manhattan, and the only trees here are fake," Cato retorted, fairly confident that he'd won this round. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow at the petite girl in front of him. The more he looked at her, the more familiar she became. The cheekbones. Those literally haunting eyes of hers had stared at him before, he knew it, but he couldn't think of where he'd seen them before. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Clove froze. This was the last person that she wanted to realize whose daughter she was. Shaking her head slowly, she managed to stammer out a few words. "Nope, you don't."

Cato nodded slowly, not convinced at this girl's answer. Clove however, cleared her throat, her eyes darting around. "Well, I um, I'd better just go ahead and walk home, since it's clear my driver's not showing up." With that, she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

"Will I ever see you again?" Cato called out to her.

"You'll have to find me first!" she yelled over her shoulder, not daring to turn around and look at the stranger who had done nothing but rile her up for the past few minutes. Minutes of her life wasted, that she'd never get back.

Cato watched as the girl walked off, her boots meeting the sidewalk with a clicking sort of noise. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, meaning only one thing. Marvel had either gotten lost or had to resort to annoying Cato in his state of boredom. Putting the phone to his ear, he sighed. "Marvel, what do you want?"

"Well _someone's_ a bit irate tonight. What, could you not pick a girl up off the street and get her to come over?" Marvel said, chuckling.

"Oh I saw a girl."

"Was she interested?"

"Not really."

"Well were you interested?"

"Nah, she's not my type," Cato said, lying through his teeth.

He liked his women feisty, and this girl was nothing but.

* * *

**This is a sad first attempt at an AU. But hopefully, some of you found it interesting. I'd just like to thank my sources of inspiration-The Fray, my grandma's rolls, and Isabelle Fuhrman. You should review.**

**If you don't, Isabelle will know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oh wow, thank you all so so much for your feedback! It means a lot to me. I didn't abandon this or The Hunger Games Social Network; this I just haven't gotten around to writing and I have serious writer block when it comes to THGSN, but it will be back soon loves. Thank you so much for your sweet reviews, and without any further ado, chapter number two!**

* * *

Clove was pissed off.

She'd been promised that she wouldn't have to stay at the studio for long; her dad reassured her that all that was needed from her was a few shots for a portfolio and she'd be done. Of course "a few shots" in the mind of Christopher Ashton meant that she'd be in hair and makeup for an hour, put into some ridiculous outfit, and would have to suffer through a full-fledged photo shoot. Thank the lord that she never had to smile in pictures; she could scowl at the camera and it would look perfectly okay. Sexy, even. Instead of staying only three hours like she figured, she ended up being there all day.

Collapsing into one of the chairs in front of a giant vanity with light bulbs all around the frame, she pulled one of the feather earrings out of her ear. One of the regular models that Clove had grown fairly close to, one Katniss Everdeen, let out a small laugh under her breath. "Someone doesn't look too pleased."

Clove sighed. "Maybe it's because I'm not? Or maybe I just always look like that."

Another one of the models, Annie Cresta, shook her head from two vanities down. "Definitely the second one. I don't think I've ever seen you look genuinely pleased with anything, and I've known you since we were seven," she stated.

"Thanks, An, I really appreciate all your sweet comments," Clove said, rolling her eyes. Pulling all of her other earrings, bracelets and rings off, she leaned back into the chair. "Why does my father insist that I model for him? He has you guys, Foxy, and all the other models."

"Because with you apart of the team, we can easily put those snobs in LA to shame," Katniss replied as she began wiping her face free of all the makeup.

"Glimmer and her cronies don't stand a chance when you're on our side, babe," Annie pointed out. "Katniss, come over here and give me a hand with this stupid clip." The raven haired girl began fumbling with a giant clip in the back of her hair, and Katniss got up to go and help out with the situation.

Clove knew that was partially true. The Los Angeles kids always drove the New York kids absolutely ballistic, and it usually always ended in a fight whenever the two groups were within a fifty foot proximity of each other. Glimmer Blackwell, Cashmere Belmont and her twin brother Gloss were the three biggest blonde bitches that any of the models in New York knew. They were considered vain, fake, and absolutely soulless people. Thankfully, they all lived on the other side of the country. Katniss, Annie, Foxy, and Finnick Odair, the regular models at the Ashton Photo Studio, despised the Goldens as they called themselves. And unfortunately having to model for her father a lot, Clove was way too familiar with the Goldens.

"Well well well, if it isn't Clover!" a deep voice came from behind her chair, and Clove whirled around only to see the beautiful sea green eyes of Finnick Odair.

Finnick was handsome; Clove would be a liar if she ever told someone that he wasn't attractive. Bronze hair, sea green eyes, completely toned underneath the white t-shirt that he was wearing, and tanned despite the temperature being in the teens almost every day; Finnick was gorgeous. And one hundred percent model material. The Goldens had tried to con him into being a part of their little cult, but he refused since _the _Christopher Ashton had hired him for a full time job.

Clove feigned amusement. "_Ha ha ha._ Cute, Finnick. I thought Foxy was with you?"

"Did someone say my name?" Roxanne Whitworth, more appropriately nicknamed Foxy after a photo shoot with a faux fur jacket and cat eyes and someone shouted out that she was Foxy Roxy-which had been later shortened to Foxy, poked her head around the door frame with a way-too excited looking smile on her face.

Clove nodded. "Foxy Roxy missed out on the incredibly fun photo shoot today," she drawled, taking a washcloth and washing off the eye makeup. Foxy walked up behind Clove's chair, resting her arms on the back of it.

"Oh come on now Clove, you look hot. I'd be terrified of you if I saw you on the streets."

"So being hot is apparently scary now?" Clove asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Whatever. At least you didn't have to work downstairs. It was so boring that eventually I ended up calling Bloomingdales at least five times. They might have blocked the number too," Foxy admitted. All of the regular models-Foxy, Katniss, Annie, and Finnick all worked in other places in the studio. Answering phones, developing the films, going in the sacred darkroom, getting to edit the photos and putting portfolios together; they worked first and modeled second. Not all of them had to model at the same time, Christopher needed the help, and of course, his precious Clove was his favorite thing to photograph. That was why the Goldens mocked them so much. They were considered jokes in the modeling world, but really, modeling was just a hobby. Working for Christopher was their real job.

The only one that modeled full time was Finnick. And of course, Clove had done countless shoots with the boy.

Finnick was currently standing at the window, a very amused smirk on his face. "Hey Clove," he called, never taking his eyes off of what was in the street. Clove set the washcloth back down on the vanity, staring curiously at the boy by the window. "I didn't know you had yourself a real life Romeo."

Katniss, Annie, and Foxy all began to squeal and wink at Clove, but the brunette girl's eyebrows furrowed together. "What the hell have you been smoking, Odair? I thought my dad said no drugs."

Finnick laughed. "I haven't been smoking anything. But there's some guy standing outside on the street and his eyes haven't moved from this window since I walked over here."

"Maybe he's gay Finnick, and he just wants to get with you."

"As true as that possibly could be, I don't think that's the case. Just come over here."

Clove huffed but complied, standing up slowly and trudging towards the window. Finnick, who looked highly entertained by all this, stepped out of her way as she pressed her nose to the cold glass. There, standing on the street with a very smug smile on his face, was the boy she'd run into the previous night.

The one she hoped she'd never see again.

* * *

Cato was determined to find out where he'd seen that girl he'd seen on the streets before. She was so familiar. Piercing green eyes, charcoal colored hair, the skinny frame-all of it was something that he'd seen before. So as soon as he got back to Marvel's place, he took the laptop and began to go on the internet, looking up New York models on the search engine.

On page twenty of results, he finally found those same eyes staring back at him.

_Christopher Ashton's daughter._

Why the hell renowned photographer Christopher Ashton let his daughter walk around the streets at night alone, he'd never know. But he did. He looked up the address to the New York branch and told himself the next day that he'd go and try to see if he could catch the girl.

Marvel figured that this was just another girl that Cato wanted to fuck and then move on from. He had been partially right. Sure, Cato wanted nothing more than to have that Ashton girl squirming underneath him, but there was something about her that intrigued her. He'd know he'd have to put up a fight with this girl, but he wanted to. He didn't know why Cato was going to waste his time with the Ashton girl. Peeta Mellark, Marvel's other roomie, agreed one hundred percent. There were plenty of hot women at clubs. Why go for the damned model?

Oh, _that's _right. Cato had to have what he couldn't.

Cato had been walking by the Ashton Studio in hopes that he would have seen the girl, but there had been no sign of her. That was until he was just about to leave that he saw her walk past the window, looking one hundred percent different. It was definitely her, but he could tell she'd just gotten done with a photo shoot of some kind. Of course; Daddy's little girl was also Daddy's favorite thing to take pictures of.

And he hadn't moved since she passed the window. He began throwing small pieces of rock up by the walls, hoping that he wouldn't break anything and that no one would call the cops on him for attempted vandalism. Eventually, an extremely good looking male came to the window, looking highly amused at the whole situation. Was that her boyfriend? He began to talk to someone inside the room, trying to fight off the smile on his face. Next thing Cato knew, there she was.

She rolled her eyes, which only spread the smug little smile across the blonde boy's face even farther. Waving up at her, she yanked the window open before hanging half her body out the thing. "Now I know why you didn't want any of my cigarettes!" he shouted up at her. She stared back at him, baffled.

"How the hell did you find me, you stalker!?"

"I do my research, Miss _Ashton_," he replied, putting a heavy emphasis on her last name. He could see her face get paler, which somehow enlightened him in a way. "What, scared?"

"You're the one who should be scared! Security will be out there in two seconds flat if I call them on you!" she yelled back down at him, her curled hair blowing in the breeze.

"You sure you'd call security on me, sweetheart?"

"Wanna try me, pretty boy?"

"Come on down, Ashton! I wanna talk to you!" he shouted up at her, pulling his jacket tighter around him. It was supposed to snow again this afternoon, which was exactly what the city needed. More fucking snow.

"Have you lost your mind!? I am not going anywhere that you happen to be at!"

"Aw, was I supposed to be hurt by that comment, Ashton?" Cato said, faking a sniffle. She scowled down at him. "Just come down here!"

"I'll have to be dead first!" And with that, she slammed the window shut. Cato chuckled darkly. It was so obvious that she wanted him.

* * *

"_I'll have to be dead first!" _Clove shrieked before getting a hold on the window and slamming it back shut. The boy that she'd run into on the streets the night before while waiting on Russell had somehow or another found her. How the hell had that happened, and so quickly? Walking away from the window, she collapsed into one of the vanity chairs. Katniss stared at her with an amused gleam in her grey eyes.

"Oh yeah, you and Romeo definitely are in love," she said. Clove shot the girl a look that if it could kill, Katniss would have been six feet under. Katniss held up her hands in surrender, leaning back into her own chair.

"Who was that, Clove?" Finnick asked.

Clove sighed, resting her head in her hands. "Some…_pervert_ probably. Russell never showed up last night and I ended up doing the one thing parents always teach their children never to do-talk to strangers."

Foxy, who looked as though she was trying to swallow down her laughs but beginning to fail, raised an eyebrow. "Well Clover, what are you gonna do about it?"

"Do you think anyone would miss him if I shoved him in the garbage disposal?" Clove asked hopefully. The people around her laughed. "Ugh, you guys are not helping me any."

"We weren't trying to help you," Katniss interjected.

"We were just trying to find out what you were gonna do about Romeo," Foxy added.

For a moment, Clove was silent. What exactly was she supposed to do? She couldn't think of any sort of solution. If she called security, all he'd do was go and find her elsewhere. She didn't even know the guy's name, and yet she already wanted to strangle him. This was a new record in Clove's book. Finally, it came to her. She slowly stood up, a determined gleam in her eyes. "I'm going to the coffee shop."

* * *

**Well thank you so much for reading this chapter! It actually flowed out a lot smoothly than I thought it would have. I'm really excited to develop this even more. So tell me what you thought of the story in that pretty little review I know you're planning to leave me. Because your mom and Isabelle Fuhrman will know if you don't.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, here we go with Chapter Three! Thank you all so much for your sweet reviews; I'm so happy to hear your feedback and to see that you're all so interested in this. It makes me smile. THGSN will be back really soon, I promise. Without further ado…**

* * *

Cato liked to think that when you pissed a girl off, that it made them that much more attracted to you. It meant that they would worry about getting you off of their case, and eventually, the frustrations turn into feelings. And feelings turn into a good fuck. The Triple F. Clearly, that was not the case, because the way that Ashton had slammed that window shut was enough to send across a message even he'd understand. _Stay away from me._

However, Cato didn't really pay attention to messages or signs that could or couldn't mean something. He ignored them. Avoided them like the plague. He didn't really care. Something about Ashton, who was probably blowing off her steam to Daddy or Daddy's models nine stories up, made him want to get under her skin.

Get under her skin, and then get in her pants. Yes, that was how it worked. It's how it always works, Cato. Another gust of mid-January wind caused even the great Cato Wolff to shiver, and he pulled the lousy jacket Marvel had lent him tighter across his chest.

The question now was _now what_? Found out who the strangely familiar girl who you'd just so happened to meet on the side of the street? _Check_. Gone to her father's photo studio in hopes she'd be there? _Check_. Gotten lucky and managed to have a conversation with her? _Check_. But where was he supposed to go from there? There was no way in hell he'd take his chances going in the studio and looking for her. He'd rather cut his own tongue out with a rusty implement than possibly face the wrath of Ashton's security guards.

So he resorted to sitting down on the curb off to the side of the studio's entrance. When she left for the day, she'd see him and there would be no avoiding the situation. Cato would get a conversation with Ashton. Even if it was the last thing he did.

He wasn't expecting a tiny bell to jingle, signaling that someone was walking out of the building quite that soon. Turning his head a bit, a smile spread across his face. Sure enough, there she was. Looking pissed as hell.

Things were better than Cato thought they'd be.

"Aw, did you decide that you wanted to come and keep me company?" he teased, facing back towards the road. The click of heels came towards him, and the next thing he knew, something was coming down on his head rather forcefully.

Fantastic. Ashton had just whacked him in the head with her bag. Rubbing the side of his head, he gave her a tight lipped smile. "I'm going to forget that that just happened."

"I'm not," she stated bluntly, folding her arms over her chest. Cato shrugged, his attention focusing back on the other side of the street. He could hear her behind him trying to form words in the right order, finding the right way to say what she wanted to but failing horribly. He chuckled softly.

"Do I have that much of an effect on you?" he asked. Clove looked down at him skeptically, and in response he tipped his head to the side. "You know. I've got you all riled up; now you can't even speak around me…face it. You're feeling something."

"I'm three seconds away from taking Anna Karenina out of my bag and giving you a minor concussion."

"You know Ashton, the Nile isn't just a river in Egypt," Cato said in ever the flirty manner, wiggling his eyebrows. Clove however, wasn't amused in the slightest.

"My name is Clove," she said stonily. Cato nodded.

"Right; want me to call you Cloverfield or Ashton?" he retorted. He swore that he saw that tiny hand of hers dart into her bag in search for a book that could possibly kill him, but maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. She was still as a statue.

"What I want is for you to leave me alone, okay?" she said, turning on her heel and beginning to walk down the sidewalk. This wasn't happening. She wasn't leaving. No girl ever left. But maybe Ash-_Clove_ wasn't like every other girl.

For God's sake, she carried Tolstoy around like it was Chapstick.

Jumping to his feet, he began to walk off after her. "Come on Clover, I just want to talk with you!" he called out.

"Not happening!" she yelled over her shoulder, not even bothering to turn around to face him. Maybe Clove would be more of a fight than he thought. Picking up the pace and sprinting up to where she was, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so she was now looking directly at him.

Those hazel eyes of hers had quite the murderous gleam in them. "Let go of me," she growled. Cato shook his head defiantly.

"Not until you talk to me."

"About what? The weather? The political debate? Christ, Cato, what is there to say? You're a stalker. You're a stalker and a creep and I have half a mind to call the cops on you," she said, clearly not messing around. Cato exhaled, his shoulders falling a bit.

"I'm sorry." Lie; Cato Wolff was never sorry about anything. "I just wanted to find you; there was something about you and…I couldn't shake it." Not a total lie; Clove was intriguing and he couldn't shake her. What he didn't tell her was why he wanted to find her. She sighed softly, both hands wrapping around the strap of her bag.

That was when he noticed something different. When she had hung out of the window earlier, she looked completely made up. Like a, well, model. Photoshoot ready. Now she looked the complete opposite. She was wearing no makeup, hair in a ponytail, and in fact the only possible thing that hadn't changed was her shoes. The girl seemed to love her heels. Even her cream colored Anthropologie dress-you couldn't blame him for knowing; he'd seen the tag sticking out of the back as he chased her down-was something that she must have changed into, because she most definitely didn't have it on earlier. His eyebrows furrowed together. "You look different," he blurted out.

"What do you mean?" she asked almost immediately, in such a way that he almost thought she'd taken offense by it.

"Nothing…just that earlier you didn't have that on," he pointed out. Clove shrugged.

"Dad doesn't like me wearing clothes I wear for shoots in publi-_why I am I even talking to you_!?" Clove screeched, shaking loose from Cato's grip and stomping off. Cato groaned, following after her once more. "Leave me alone!"

"Come on Clove, just give me a chance!" he shouted.

Clove whirled back around, the look on her face rather nasty in Cato's opinion. Such a pretty girl with such an ugly expression; it didn't work. "A chance?" she repeated, shaking her head. "No, okay, I know guys like you. The only thing you want a chance with is me in your bed."

Well, maybe Cloverfield was smarter than he thought.

She continued her little monologue. "If you think I'm out looking for a one night stand, then you must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't care for your stupid party boy ways and I don't want you near me again. Understand?" she snarled.

Cato shook his head. "One chance. I'll even pay for your coffee," he muttered quietly. The emotions flickering across her face went back and forth between confused, angry, skeptical, and reluctant. She finally huffed, pulling her bag up higher on her shoulder.

"You won't touch me-"

"Deal."

"You won't ask me for any model numbers-"

"Done."

"And so help me god, if you try anything stupid, I'll kick you so hard in the groin that your grandfather will be able to feel it."

"Got it."

"It's the coffee shop about two blocks from here," Clove said, knowing that she'd been defeated. Cato smiled smugly, holding his arm out to her. She looked up at him, glowering. He brought it back in, holding his hands up in innocence.

"Just trying to be nice."

"I don't want you to be nice; I want you to be quiet."

The entire walk to the coffee shop was silent. Way too silent for Cato's liking. He wanted to talk to this girl. He wanted to find out more about the Ashton girl that he'd met just last night under the awning of an abandoned theater and find out why the hell she kept him coming back for more. Usually girls like her that required a pretty big fight bored him, and weren't worth it. He let it go. But with Clove, he actually wanted to fight. But she knew his kind apparently. She wasn't willing to let her guard down for any reason whatsoever. So she treated him to silence. Instead, he resigned to listening to the clicking of her heels as they came down on the sidewalk in a rhythm.

By the time they reached the coffee shop, she'd all but completely left him. She swooped into the shop, making a beeline for one of the chairs in the corner by the window. He didn't question it; it was always better if she did the questioning, he figured. That way he wouldn't end up putting his foot in his mouth and getting him one step closer to a round trip to the hospital.

That was another thing. Something about this Ashton girl screamed dangerous. She wasn't just feisty. She was beyond it. She was almost violent. The way she slammed that window down. The way she'd stormed off earlier, trying to get away from him. That almost demonic look in her eyes. It was frightening. Clove wasn't some sweet little angel; she was a sarcastic, spiteful human being who was probably capable of killing him and making it look as though a bunny rabbit was the murderer. He was probably the one who needed to be concerned with protecting himself.

But he could snap her like a twig. If he needed to, he could overpower her. That gave him a glimmer of hope.

Standing over her, he raised an eyebrow at the girl who was already making herself at home in the chair and curling up. "Anything for the lady?" he asked, pointing at the line. She looked up at him, a ghost of a smile etched on her face.

"Just a vanilla latte."

Cato figured he might as well get a laugh out of the girl, so he let out a mock gasp, hand flying over his heart. "A vanilla latte? No nonfat anything? Do you know how many fattening that is?" The smile on her face grew to where just the corners of her mouth were turned up, but that was enough for Cato. "Is that all? You don't want anything else?" he asked yet again. Clove shook her head, her bottom lip captured by her teeth and gnawing on it. He winked at her before going to take his place in the fairly short line.

About the time he was three people away from the register, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, bringing it up to his ear without bothering to check caller ID. There wasn't much of a need to anyways; he knew who it was calling.

Marvel's voice came through the speaker. "Hey man, where you at?"

Cato looked around as though Marvel was lurking around somewhere. "Oh nowhere, just walking around the city."

"Well that's no fun." Marvel didn't sound too convinced, but Cato wasn't very concerned about it. "So listen, Peeta and I met this group of girls who are visiting the area today at lunch and they want the grand tour; I figured we could take them clubbing. Three blondes, all single, all smoking hot. You in?" he asked.

"Nah, I already had plans."

"Seriously dude? Can't you just reschedule or something? It's not every day you get three single hot blondes wanting you to take them clubbing."

"No man, I _can't_ reschedule," Cato said through gritted teeth. Marvel sighed.

"Are you with that one girl you met the other night? The feisty one you were looking up on the Internet? Nope, don't even tell me, I know that's who you're with. Dude, what are you doing? Come on now."

"What do you mean? Do you have a problem with me hanging out with her?"

Marvel laughed into the phone. "Do you hear yourself? You're just hanging out with her? Cato, get a grip. Why are you fighting for this girl? She's not worth it, especially if she's taking this long to cave. Besides, you've got those blondes that will give you what you want without batting an eye."

"Maybe I don't want those blondes. Don't you get tired of the same old same old?"

"Dude, are you high?"

"No, but seriously. It's kind of fun having to fight to get what you want. It's just something different."

"Cato, I think you've gone crazy. Quit wasting your time with some psycho model who doesn't give two fucks about you."

"She's not psycho, man."

"Cato, listen to me, okay? If she hasn't already agreed to hop on your dick by now, she never will. Give up."

"You want me to give up," Cato repeated dumbly into the phone.

"As your best friend who is only looking out for you; yes. I do. You don't need to spend too much time chasing after a girl. Either she wants you or she doesn't. It's simple."

"Well-"

"Dude, she's a fucking model with a photographer daddy who makes probably about as much as Oprah. She's a stiff. She probably doesn't know anything other than that. She's probably still a virgin, too."

"So?"

Marvel bust out into laughter much to Cato's dismay. "_So?_ So, she's a virgin. You don't wanna be the one to pop her cherry. That's just too much responsibility and time consuming and ultimately, a headache in the making."

"Hanging up now-"

"I mean it Cato. You're not gonna waste your time with this girl when you have your whole life to live. I'm not letting that happen."

"Goodbye, Marvel." With that, Cato disconnected the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He looked over at Clove, who was curled up in her chair with her nose already buried deep into Anna Karenina. Her eyes trailed up to meet his and she didn't smile, but her stony expression wasn't as cold. In fact, her features seemed to soften and relax a bit before focusing her attention back on the book.

_Stop it Cato. You heard Marvel. You don't need to waste your time. __**But what if it isn't a waste of time?**_

Marvel would see. He would see that the chase was worth finally getting that Ashton girl as just another notch high upon his bedpost. And when that happened, he'd laugh in Marvel's face.

* * *

Hiding her phone in between the opened pages of Anna Karenina wasn't that hard. Cato wasn't paying her absolutely any attention; in fact he was deeply immersed into some phone conversation of his own. About thirty seconds later, Katniss' face appeared on her screen. "Hey," Clove whispered, ducking her head into her book.

Katniss stared at her as though she'd gone crazy, but didn't question it. "Did you ever shake off Romeo?" she asked. Clove groaned.

"I wish. I figure if I went with him for coffee that he'd just give up after that."

Katniss' jaw dropped a bit, and Foxy popped in from out of nowhere. "Whoa Clover, you're on a date with the dude already? Nice one, sister." Clove scowled.

"It's not a date, it's more like an 'I'm only agreeing to do this so you'll leave me alone' thing," Clove explained. Foxy and Katniss exchanged looks, Foxy turning back to the camera with a wide smile on her face.

"So like a date," she said.

"Oh my god it's not a date!" Clove wailed.

Katniss shook her head. "Okay, okay, it's not a date, we get it. But I need to tell you something before your dad comes back from his doughnut run, and you have to swear not to say anything to anyone. Not even your dad; he doesn't know we know."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I swear, I swear, now what is it?" Clove asked impatiently. Katniss took a deep breath, running her fingers through her chocolate curls before exhaling.

"The Goldens are in town."

* * *

**A/N: Oh god. That can't be good. Don't you love cliffhangers? I know I do! And hmm…the three blondes Marvel and Peeta met? Wonder if they have anything to do with the Goldens, ey? Alright, well that's that for this chapter. I will see you all very soon. Until then, review pretty pretty please! They make me happy.**

**Also, if you don't review, book Clove will haunt you for eternity.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for all of your sweet feedback! You guys are the best. I however, did get a lot of questions as to why there were three blonde girls instead of two. I did mean to put three blonde girls. You'll find out about the other one this chapter. Without further ado…**

* * *

"Is there any way that I'd be able to tear you away from that book for about five seconds?" Cato asked, returning back to the table with her drink. Clove's head popped up from out behind the pages of her book, a small smile on her face. Handing her her drink, Cato sat down in the chair closest to her.

"Depends, are you going to be able to hold my attention that long?" Clove replies with an eyebrow arched. Cato shrugged, clasping his hands together and resting them in his lap. Sighing, Clove dog-eared her page and closed her book, putting it in the crevice between the edge of the chair and her leg. "How in the world did you find me?"

"In this day and time, my dear Clove, there's this thing called the Internet," Cato reminded the petite brunette in front of him with a wink. She however, didn't seem too take much interest in what he was saying, and a ghost of a scowl fell over her features.

"So you're saying that in your free time, you search for girls that you've randomly met on the side of the street on the Internet? That doesn't make you sound too good Cato; in fact it wants me to call the cops even more than I did before," she said, pursing her lips together. Her face fell into a deadly looking grimace, which was enough to scare Cato out of his mind. _Come on Cato; don't let some girl who's about as big as a Chihuahua terrify you._

"Even if you did call the cops on me, it wouldn't affect me in the ways you think it would. I've had my fair share of running into those bastards," he muttered under his breath. His eyes trailed back up to where hers were, just to see her piercing green eyes staring at him widely in confusion. He watched as she slowly brought her cup up to her lips, taking a sip of her coffee but never taking her eyes off him.

"Why does that not surprise me?" she mumbled under her breath before raising her voice. "What were you doing that got you the cops on your ass? Or do I even want to know?"

Cato rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling rather loudly. "A better question might be what wasn't I doing? Not everyone's so good and innocent in this world, Clove, surely you'd know that."

"If you're calling me naïve, then clearly you don't know who you're talking to," Clove snapped almost instantly. "I know my fair share of fucked up people and I've had my moments."

Cato raised an eyebrow. "Now I can't see that happening. Surely Daddy keeps you on a short enough leash so that you won't go around messing up his image with your teenage antics," he said. Clove's upper lip turned upwards in a snarl.

"Ever since my little stint in Vegas, I've been watched like a hawk by everyone. There's not much room to fuck up when you're Clove Ashton."

"A stint in Vegas? This sounds interesting; do tell more," he said; resting his head on his fist as he leaned towards her, interested. Vegas was the last place that Cato would expect a girl like Clove to be, but she'd been there. Doing what, he didn't know. He couldn't see her gambling or partying; she probably spent the whole trip in a hotel room watching black and white movies.

Clove ran a hand over the top of her head, smoothing down the flyaway hairs. "A few of my dad's…um, workers; we all took a trip down to Vegas a few years back for the hell of it. We all went to this one restaurant and the Goldens-"

"Goldens?" Cato interrupted, causing a harsh glare to come from Clove. "Sorry, sorry; continue."

"As I was saying, my dad's rival's models were there and once they saw us, things turned off ugly. I sort of lost my cool and tackled the head bitch in the middle of the restaurant. Hair was pulled, a little blood might have been shed, and by the end of the night, my dad was ready to put me on house arrest for the rest of my life. Ever since then, I went from being a casual introvert to an extreme introvert," she mused, her hand resting on top of her thigh. Cato nodded slowly.

"Head bitch, huh? Who won?" he asked cheekily, a smile spreading across his face. The glare that Clove was now giving him was murderous but he didn't stop. "I'll take it she won then."

"You need to stop while you're ahead," Clove growled through clenched teeth. Cato held his hands up as a sign of surrender, leaning back further in his chair. "I think it's your turn; what happened with the cops?"

Cato shrugged. "At a bar, might have had a few loud parties back in the Hamptons, drunk driving-"

"I'm sorry, stop talking," Clove cut him off coolly.

"What?"

"I said, stop talking."

So apparently drunk driving was a touchy subject with her, because she'd all but walled up with Anna Karenina. He couldn't even see her face at this point. Sighing loudly, he ran his fingers through his short hair. "Clove-" She cleared her throat loudly to interrupt him, and that was enough to tell him that it was a lost cause. He pulled his phone out, sending a quick message to Marvel. _**Pissed the model off. I might die tonight. **_Almost a minute after he sent it, he got a reply. _**Your fault, dude. **_Rolling his eyes, he shoved his phone back down in his pocket. Maybe texting Marvel wasn't the best thing; he was still being a prick and didn't know what he was talking about.

For a little bit over a half hour, Cato sat in his chair and watched as Clove read her book. Occasionally, she would feel his eyes bearing into her and she'd look up at him. Her looks softened with each time she looked up; she was slowly getting over whatever had offended her. Cato knew that part of her still had that hesitation not to kill him, but she was trying to be nice. No matter how innocent she might have looked sitting there, he knew that she had the ability to scare him shitless. She probably had some sort of inner demon hidden within her and it was just waiting to jump out and kill him.

Finally, Clove closed her book and stood up, smoothing out her dress. "Well?" she asked, staring down at the blonde boy. Cato's eyes met hers as he gave her a puzzled look.

"Well what?"

"Are you just going to stay here or are you going to walk back down to the building with me?" She then looked at the door before back at him. "I've got to go; surely you didn't think I was going to sit around with you all night."

Cato stood up, holding his arm out to her. "I was kind of hoping that was what would happen, but I guess I'm not that lucky tonight."

"You won't be lucky any night for a really, really, long time," she reminded him, completely turning down his gesture and walked out of the café by herself. Cato followed suit, trailing behind Clove like a lost puppy. She was walking rather fast, which came across rather surprising to Cato. Walking in the café she seemed pretty laidback, not wanting to rush. Now it was like she was eager to escape his presence.

The two of them reached the Ashton building, and Cato grabbed Clove's arm right before she could run off inside the building and get every security she had onto him. "Hey," he said, spinning her around so she was facing him. "When's a good time to come back and see you?"

"Never-"

"Clove, are you going to introduce us?" a redhead who was bounding towards the two trilled. Clove threw her head back, groaning. Two brunette girls and a bronze haired boy—most likely the boy Cato had seen earlier—followed behind her, all wearing the same smug smirk on their faces. The redhead gripped onto Clove's arm, smiling over at Cato.

"Not really," Clove grumbled. The redhead gave her a look before turning back to face Cato. She removed one of her hands from around Clove's arm and outstretched it in Cato's direction.

"Well if you're not going to, I will. I'm Roxanne, call me Foxy; that's Annie, the other brunette is Katniss, and the dude who keeps looking at his reflection in the window of that cab is Finnick." Cato nodded slowly trying to remember names. The energetic redhead was Foxy, who up closely, could have resembled a fox. The brunette behind Foxy biting her lip rather nervously, staring the pavement was Annie. The girl with her hair in a very intricate braid going down her shoulder was Katniss. The only guy and even more obsessed than Marvel when it came to appearance was Finnick.

"Foxy, Annie, Katniss, Finnick. Got it," Cato confirmed, and Foxy gave him a thumbs-up. She then turned back to Clove, bouncing up and down.

"Come on Clove, we've got to go! Your dad doesn't know it, but we're sneaking out to go and find the Goldens and, well, you know, give them hell!" she chirped. Cato's eyebrows furrowed together. Apparently the Goldens were common conversation topic with everyone in the Ashton building. Foxy's head whirled back around to look at Cato, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry if Clove stabbed you with anything."

"I didn't stab him; Jesus, Foxy," Clove murmured, rolling her eyes.

"Well I didn't know that!" Waving enthusiastically at Cato, Foxy bid him a farewell before proceeding to drag Clove off down the opposite end of the street. The girl with the braid; Katniss, narrowed her eyes at Cato as she turned sharply on her heel, following the others.

"_FINNICK!"_

"Coming!" the guy yelled, tearing away from his reflection to trot off after the girls. Cato stood still, watching all of them walk off until they were lost in the shuffle of people hastily moving in all different directions. He then slid his phone back out of his pocket, this time choosing to text Peeta.

_**Gingers are really energetic.**_

* * *

"Where are we even going?" Clove moaned, trying to keep up with the pace of her overly-excited friend. Foxy continued to literally sprint down the sidewalks, much to everyone's protests. Clove knew why she was so wired though; if the Goldens were in town, there was only one way to give them a proper greeting.

And that was by showing them up.

"I told you Clove; we got the tip-off that they'd be at this club sometime tonight! And get this; we heard that they've recruited yet another dumb blonde into their little cult. I'm personally dying to see who they brainwashed," Foxy chirped.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal," Finnick whined. "Why do we have to go and chase the Goldens down; I mean they'll be around for some time. Is it really necessary that we attack on the first night?" The way he talked about it made Clove believe that they were discussing war plans.

Foxy sighed. "For the fifteenth time Finnick, yes it is! They don't know that we have any idea that they're here; they think that we think they're off slutting it up in Los Angeles! You attack the enemy when they're most vulnerable! God, do you not know anything about strategy?"

"Sorry; I don't sit around and play Call of Duty all day."

Foxy looked as though she was about to murder Finnick, and peacemaker Annie stepped in. "So Clove, how was your date with Romeo?" she asked teasingly, her eyes twinkling. Clove's mouth set in a thin line.

"Let's see; after I ended the video call with you guys, he came back with my coffee. I told him about the Vegas incident, he told me about his adventures with the cops, I ignored him for half an hour and read, and then you guys entered the picture," she drawled.

"Why did you ignore him for half an hour?" Katniss asked.

Clove shrugged. "He was talking about how he'd go to bars underage, throw parties and drive drunk. I told him to shut up." The looks on the three girls' and Finnick's faces instantly went from eager to stunned. No one talked about drunk driving around Clove. That was almost like the unspoken rule of the Ashton Photography business.

"Clove-"

"Isn't this the place?" she interrupted Foxy, pointing to a building with neon lights around the marquee. Foxy nodded, rubbing her hands together deviously.

"Let's go find some Goldens."

Once the group was admitted into the club, they stood on the platform above the dance floor. Finding the Goldens wouldn't be too hard; just look for a tight knit group of blondes all wearing the same color looking conceited and snobby. It was how you found the Goldens anywhere. There were a few false alarms as they scanned over the floor; they saw a blonde in a pink dress that looked scarily similar to Cashmere Belmont but turned out to be a stranger, and Finnick could have sworn he saw Gloss bringing a round of drinks to a table filled with college girls. Katniss sighed impatiently, her hands resting on the railing. "Do we even know that they're here? What if the person that tipped us off was just kidding with us? I mean come on Foxy; we have to be realistic here."

"I am being realistic, Catnip; I'm determined to kick some Golden ass tonight. Maybe if we just divide and conquer-"

"No, Foxy, we are not splitting up. We won't make it out of here until three in the morning if we split up, because Finnick will get tied down with a horde of girls around him."

"That is one hundred percent true," Finnick chimed, looking a little scared as a few girls over in the corner stared him down. "Look, Katniss is right on this one; let's just leave and wait until we have some solid proof that these guys are even in town. I don't feel up to playing Scooby-Doo."

Clove, who had been casually resting up against the railing and staring at the crowds of people below them dancing crazily, rolled her eyes at her friends' argument. "Let's just go. I've dealt with my fair share of blonde bastards for the day." Hands uncoiling from around the railing, she stepped back one tiny step before colliding into someone who had been walking by.

"Watch it, damnit!" came the high pitched, preppy sounding screech from behind Clove. Clove would have normally let that slide, but this voice sounded all too familiar.

Turning around slowly at the same time as Foxy and Katniss, the face and the voice both matched the name of the person in mind. Glimmer Blackwell.

Glimmer, who was wearing an extremely short fuchsia dress and a pair of heels that elevated her at least another seven inches in the sky, smirked at the people before her. "Well well well, if it isn't the Yorkies," she crooned.

Foxy, who was clenching and unclenching her fists by her sides, snarled. "Why are you here?" she spat. Glimmer shrugged.

"We're just giving the newest Golden a tour of the competition's turf; you know, showing them how much better off they are," she jeered. A low growl rippled from between Katniss' teeth as she tightened her grip on the railing behind her.

"_Yorkies!"_ The sneer from a deep man's voice boomed from behind Glimmer. She cocked her head to the side, a smug smile on her face. The twins, Cashmere and Gloss Belmont appeared on either side of Glimmer, leering smiles on their faces. Cashmere was in a dress similar to Glimmer's, and Gloss was wearing a pink-grey-and-white plaid shirt. Gloss looked Finnick up and down, shaking his head in disapproval. "Odair, what happened to you? You're looking awful," he commented.

"'Least I look straight," Finnick muttered through clenched teeth.

Glimmer turned to face Cashmere. "Don't tell me you lost Newbie," she groaned. Cashmere rolled her eyes.

"No; she's with the two guys we met up with. See look, here they come," Cashmere reassured, pointing off at a blonde in a pink dress with a boy on either arm.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Katniss on the other side of Clove, and immediately the raven-haired girl's head whipped around to check on her friend. "Katniss?" Clove whispered, tapping on Katniss' shoulder. She was frozen, staring at the approaching girl. "Katniss, what's wrong?" Clove watched as Katniss' knees threatened to buckle, and immediately grabbed her friend's shoulders.

Annie then gasped herself, hand flying up to her mouth as the newest Golden made her way to stand directly beside Glimmer. Finnick's eyes were slits, Foxy looked as though she was about to murder someone, but Clove didn't see what was all the big fuss was about. The second she locked eyes with the blonde girl, she realized why Katniss probably felt so betrayed.

Madge Undersee, the only friend Katniss ever had, had betrayed her by becoming a Golden.

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**A/N: So this should answer all your questions about who the third blonde was! It wasn't a mistake when I typed it. ;) But a lot happened in this chapter, huh? Tell me what you thought of in the review I know you plan on leaving! If you don't leave a review, Thresh will come after you with a rock.**


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